


A New Adventure

by loonsong



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonsong/pseuds/loonsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne accidentally sees Mac undressed, and it sets her off on a new adventure.</p><p>This takes place probably middle of series two or so, but does not contain any plot spoilers for the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bath

"Dot, would you offer to run a hot bath for Mac when she gets in?"

"Yes, miss."

Phryne assessed the storm out the window. It had gone from heavy but normal rainfall to a full-blown gale in the past quarter of an hour. They were planning to have a full house for supper, with Aunt Prudence in town and several friends over, but it was beginning to look like she would have to insist everyone stay the night because of flash flooding. Mac was the last of her guests to arrive, and the roads were becoming quite dangerous. Phryne went downstairs to ask Jane to help her and Dot ready the spare rooms. There was some kind of delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen -- she had asked for lobster bisque if enough lobster had been available this early in the summer, and it smelled like it was -- and Phryne busied herself with preparations to keep her mind off of how much her mouth was watering. It wouldn't polite to sneak into the kitchen for a taste from the pot, not when she had guests.

After the rooms were ready, Phryne meant to pop into the bathroom to freshen up before returning downstairs.

"Well hello there!" Mac was in the tub, soaking with some essential oils and no suds. Even though she was quicker to respond, she was clearly as surprised to see Phryne at the door as Phryne was to see Mac.

"Sorry, I didn't know you had arrived! When did you get in?" Phryne asked. Mac sat up a little bit to address her.

"Only a minute ago. Dot was gracious enough to start drawing the bath for me as soon as she heard the cab struggling up the road. I am very glad, because I was soaking wet and chilled to the bone." 

Phryne nodded, slightly distracted. She had never seen her friend undressed before, and it was ... considerably more interesting to her than she had expected. The clear water lapped at the bottom of Mac's breasts as she moved. Years ago, when she met Mac and learned about the woman's predilection towards the fairer sex, Phryne had briefly sized her up. After all, Phryne had never been with a woman before and she loved novel experiences, especially the sensual kind. She had found herself absolutely charmed by the brilliant doctor, but not aroused. 

"I... That's good. Dot is thoughtful that way," Phryne murmured, trying to pretend that she was still engaged in the conversation. Mac's skin looked deliciously touchable. Phryne realized that her own mental image of what a naked woman looked like came in two varieties -- the sterile and the absurd. Certainly, she was quite familiar with her own body, and had bathed with her sister as a child when they could catch a hot bath, but these were not sexual understandings of the female form. Over the years, out of curiosity, she had leafed through some magazines with racy sketches meant for adolescent boys, and she had taken in a fair number of burlesque performances -- from both sides of the curtain. But the girls in these scenes were too perfect, their breasts too perky and their smiles too coy, to be of any interest. From observing men's reactions Phryne assumed that this sort of thing was very appealing to anyone who liked girls.

But Mac was a woman. Her arms were firmly muscled yet had a visible softness to their undersides. The crease where her torso met her legs was inviting, not taut like a showgirl's or defined and architectural like a fit man's, but it made Phryne want to touch, caress, and open her, the way the creases in the leather binding of a book made her feel. Except that a book didn't usually make her forget where she was, at least not until after she had opened it.

"Was there something else, Phryne?" Mac was looking at her expectantly. Right, she had just walked in on her friend naked in the bath, the typical thing to do was to leave. Then again, she always made sure none of her friends would expect her to be typical. Mac couldn't be that put off if she lingered an extra moment, could she?

"No, I just..." She trailed off. What was most fascinating was the lines gently crisscrossing Mac's chest, where her breasts had been pushed together by her brassiere. Phryne suddenly became keenly aware of the fact that her friend's undergarments were on the tile floor, a few inches away. 

"What's troubling you?" Mac turned to face Phryne further, and in doing so, she exposed more of her side, handsome flesh covering sturdy ribs.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all," Phryne managed, "I'll see you at dinner?"

She shut the door behind her, slightly dazed. Well, this desire was a new adventure.


	2. A study in contrasts

It was lobster bisque. Phryne had seated herself across from Jack and next to Aunt Prudence, ready to run interference if her aunt had any unusual things to say to Lin or his wife Camellia. Mac was at the other end of the table, beside Camellia. Phryne had intended the gathering to be light-hearted, a celebration of two months with no sensational murders in town, but then Aunt Prudence had announced she was coming to town, which changed the tone a bit. Phryne tried her best to do her job as hostess, a role she usually enjoyed, but she kept thinking about what she had seen in the bathroom.

Mac looked as good dressed as she did nude. Phryne couldn't understand why she had never seen it before. Tonight Mac was wearing a firmly-woven tweed jacket in a mix of warm browns that brought out the highlights in her sandy hair. It fit her contours so perfectly. She held her shoulders squarely but there was a slight curve to their shape, which the jacket followed just as easily as it followed the curve from her bosom to her hips. It occurred to Phryne that Mac must have an excellent tailor. She wondered what material Mac's button-front shirt was made of, it looked to smooth and touchable. Was it just a very good cotton, or was there some silk in there? Phryne imagined what the shirt must feel like on Mac's neck, and on her bare stomach, then imagined what it would feel like on her own bare torso if they embraced half-dressed. A shudder ran through her, mostly one of pleasure, but also a tiny bit of -- what? Apprehension, perhaps. This was all so alien to her. 

She tried to focus on the food. Mr. Butler had outdone himself. The dinner conversation had turned to a portrait artist, but Phryne tuned in a little bit late, and she wasn't sure who the others were talking about.

"What I love is how every bit of his subject's exposed skin is expressive," Lin was saying."He's not just using posture and clothing, but also the expression is not just in the face, it's the hands, the arms, even the neck."

Phryne's eyes darted to Mac's neck. She hadn't really evaluated a woman's neck before, but Mac's seemed a fine specimen. Graceful and strong. What would it be like to take that soft-looking collar in her hands and unbutton the shirt slowly, button by button, gradually revealing the handsome expanse of chest above Mac's breasts? What would it be like to kiss Mac while she was wearing that shirt and no brassiere? Would the dusky rose color of her nipples be obvious though the pure white cloth, or would they appear as more of a contour and a shadow, like a man's nipple through a thick undershirt? She imagined Mac's nipples growing hard under her touch, until the tips of her supple breasts were fully taut. 

A perfect study in contrasts. After all, that's what this was, wasn't it? A particularly delicious academic exercise. Phryne wasn't seriously lusting after her best friend. She had enough implausible sexual tension in her life anyway. She much preferred the type of sexual drama that unfolded into a satisfying climax, within a reasonable time frame.

"Phryne." A concerned voice startled her out of her thoughts. It was Jack, looking at her intently from across the table.

"Yes?"

"We asked if you were ready to retire to the parlor."

"Oh... Yes."

That night, after ensuring that all her guests were settled for the evening and retiring to her chamber, Phryne attempted to analyze her thoughts. She wasn't going to able to convince herself that this was purely academic. She knew her own body, and she knew what it felt like when she desired someone. It wasn't just that she was aroused, although that was certainly true. She could feel the beginnings of a powerful, perhaps long-lasting yearning everywhere. It felt like Mac had magnetized her skin, and she was pulling Phryne toward her from down the hall.

Phryne noticed that her own hand had begun working on her sex without her thinking about it. She paused. She didn't want to encourage this obsession. If she brought herself to orgasm thinking about Mac, it would all be over, wouldn't it? She wouldn't be able to look her best friend in the eye to without it being perfectly transparent that something had changed. It would probably even be obvious what it was. Phryne removed her hand, wiping her fingers on the Turkish bedsheets. 

Scarcely a minute passed before Phryne gave up. Things had already changed, and there was no use denying it. She desired Mac, and badly. Seeing her in the bath might not even have been the beginning of it, just the first time she actually knew. Phryne sighed and got out of bed briefly, removing her nightgown and lying back on top of the the folded duvet. There was something about that blanket against her back that she found incredibly satisfying during sexual actives, so when she had the time to arrange things that was what she always preferred. She spread her knees and used both hands on herself, but began slowly.

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Phryne, dear? It's Mac."


	3. The Window

"Coming!" Phryne called, a bit too loudly. She hurriedly pulled her nightgown on, dipped her now-aromatic fingers in her mouth, and grabbed her dressing robe before she got to the door.

Mac as standing in the hallway in a pair of warn but very flattering men's cotton pyjamas. Her hair was down in a loose wave around her shoulders.

"Sorry to knock so late. I'm afraid I got the window stuck open, could you come take a look?"

"Of course," said Phryne. The encounter in the bath had completely flustered her, and she struggled to think how she normally behaved around her best friend. Even more distracting than the thought of Mac's naked body was the fact that Phryne could lose her habitual cool. She had to stop thinking about it, it was a vicious cycle.

"Did you have the foresight to bring your own pyjamas, in case of washed-out roads?" she asked.

"In fact, I usually sleep in the buff," Mac said, "Mr. Butler was kind enough to offer me these for the night. I would have been fine with the nightie Dot laid out, too -- it was very soft, one of yours I imagine -- but I wanted to take him up on the thoughtful gesture."

"Well, they look good on you. Very... striped." Oh, this was embarrassing.

Finally, they got to the room where Mac was put up. A warm, wet breeze was flowing through the half-open window.

"I thought I'd get some air now that the rain has let up, but the frame seems to have swelled."

"Let's have a go at it," said Phryne. She applied herself to the task, but the window didn't budge. Mac joined her, leaning hard on the frame. She smelled incredible. Of course, the lavender and rosemary oils in the bath. The window gave way for a split second and moved half an inch, but then it stuck again. 

"Quite the workout, isn't it?" Mac said, grinning. 

They pushed a bit longer, and were to the point of giving up when a big, cold gust of wind announced that the rain was starting up again. 

"We'll just have to try again in the morning," Phryne said. "You go take my bed, I'll get some towels for the floor and settle in here. I don't mind the breeze."

"You are too gracious a host, my dear," said Mac. "I couldn't put you out of your own bed. Why don't I just join you in it?"

Phryne paused.

"No impropriety implied," Mac said with a wink, raising two fingers, "Scout's honor."


	4. Philosophy

Phryne settled uncomfortably into the left side of the bed, with Mac on the right. Now that Phryne's nose was accustomed to the lavender oil, she noticed more complexities in the scent that enveloped her. Mac's smell.

"We've never done this before, have we?" Mac said, turning to face Phryne and propping herself up on her bent elbow.

"Done what?" 

"Slept in the same bed. I feel like a little girl visiting a friend on holiday."

"Oh! Yes, it's, erm, quaint." Damn it, she thought. It was over. There was no way that Mac could not suspect that something was different. Phryne had dealt with a lot of liars in the course of her work. Never had she met one as transparent as she was. 

Mac reached over and tucked in a stray hair on Phryne's head. Now this was beginning to feel ridiculous, like a scenario from one of those romance stories in the magazines Dot always pretended she didn't read. And yet, despite herself, Phryne practically trembled under Mac's strong, gentle hand. She was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that she had been interrupted and didn't get to finish pleasuring herself. She tried to push the thought away. 

Since the game was probably up anyway, she might as well try her luck.

"Mac, do you have a philosophy of friendship?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"A belief system, you know, about what works and what doesn't. What are your thoughts on recreation between friends, who are not romantically entangled?"

"Recreation? You're not generally one for euphemisms," said Mac.

"Sex." 

Phryne was suddenly aware that the bed was growing warmer. She wondered what Mac would look like after being warmed properly, with a flush on her cheeks and her chest. Mac was looking intently at her. Was she about to let her down gently, or grab her by the back of the neck and kiss her?

"But Phryne, dear, I thought that you did want to be romantically involved with Jack."

"What? I... Oh. No." Phryne rolled the edge of the bed-sheet between her fingers nervously. "I mean, I do want, well, I'm not sure what I want with Jack, but it's not a casual affair. Although he is material for one, physically I mean."

"So it's someone else."

"Yes." Phryne tried to breathe intention into the word for Mac to pick up on. She was usually so much more confident than this, and it turned out confidence was a big factor in her ability to insinuate. 

"Well, I suppose my philosophy is that it depends on the friendship. For some, it would come naturally, and for others it would become some big elephant in the room and get in the way of normal conversation."

Phryne wanted to just come out and say it, but what if it went wrong? She saw that Mac was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Am I keeping you up, Mac?" Not that Phryne would be able to get to sleep in her state.

"I'm sorry. It's just been a long day -- a good one -- and I guess the adventure with the window tired me right out."

"Of course."

Now what? Phryne closed her eyes. She knew some women who could orgasm just be squeezing the right muscles. Perhaps she be able to get enough relief that way to fall asleep.

Minutes passed, and while Phryne admitted to herself that it was a very enjoyable exercise, it only made the warmth between her legs more desperate. Perhaps if she was very careful, she could finish herself off without Mac noticing. She slid two fingers down. Almost immediately she had to stop herself from bucking her hips. She steadied her breathing carefully. It felt wonderful to inhale the scent of Mac's hair while she...

Mac rolled back to face Phryne again. Phryne froze in place.

"Do you have enough of the blanket?" Mac murmured.

"Yes."

"Good, I thought I felt you tugging on it."

Phryne sighed. Her clitoris was in agony when she stopped rubbing it, and the rest of her wasn't faring much better.

"No, but in fact I was about to excuse myself to the toilet," she said, and scrambled out from the warm sheets. The storm had continued, and even snug inside the house, the air had grown colder again.


	5. A Furtive Finish

Phyrne closed the toilet door. She had never done this in her own lav before. Certainly, she had pleasured herself alone in other people’s toilets on occasion, when the situation called for it. Sometimes there was a circumstance where it would be rude to sneak away, or her attempts at seduction didn’t go as planned. Sometimes. In any case, it had been a while.

She leaned up against the door, but it gave a loud creak. She turned and leaned her back to the wall, spreading her legs apart so she could get back to business. She had to be quick, after all. If Mac didn’t fall back to sleep right away, a long absence would make her suspicious, and that would be worse than anything that had happened so far that evening. Phryne sighed. Maybe it was absurd to even try to get herself climax in this situation. Her foot was jammed in the corner of the room, and one knee was cocked to avoid the toilet, and it just wasn’t comfortable.

Phryne contemplated getting back into the bed, enveloped in Mac’s warmth and her scent, and trying to fall asleep in her current state. It wouldn’t be possible. She put down the lid of the toilet and sat on the edge. She hoisted up her nightgown to allow her hands free access to where they needed to be. The thin silk provided a small layer of warmth against the cold porcelain for the upper part of her backside, but the lower half of her buttocks stung with the cold.

Warmth began to spread outwards from her center. That was it. Soon she would be able to finish. To speed the process up, she massaged her nipples with her left hand, back and forth between her breasts. She loved to moan when she was nearing orgasm, even when she was alone, but she was afraid that it would be audible through the wall. She bit her lower lip to remind herself to keep quiet.

She pictured Mac in the bath again. Nipples hard, belly soft, her whole body exuding that kind of easy competence that fit so well with Mac’s personality. She wasn’t just gorgeous, she was … Mac. Phryne tested a small moan, the sound coming up from her abdomen and resonating through her. 

It echoed. 

Why had she put tile in the toilet, again? It wasn’t needed there the way it was in the bathroom. Well, because it looked good, and it came with the order she had made for the bathroom tiles, and most of all because she wasn’t thinking about how to hide a desperate wank session from her best friend who was sleeping in the bed while Phryne thought about her.

She had to get out of her head, there was no way she’d finish quickly if she kept thinking. She focused on making little circles around her clitoris and on imagining what Mac would look like with her own legs spread apart. The edge of the toilet seat was digging into her thigh a little, but she could come anyway. She steadied her breathing so she wouldn’t moan again.

When she came, it was unsatisfactory, kind of small and lackluster, but at least it was complete. Her body drooped, finally feeling the late hour. She slowly opened the toilet door, ready to sleep next to Mac for the first time.


	6. The Morning After

It was daylight. Before she opened her eyes, Phryne paused, gripped by the feeling that something had changed the night before. She almost laughed aloud when she woke fully and remembered the bathtub, the new desire, and the fact that Mac was lying right next to her in bed. None of that was something you forget. It would be awfully convenient if the feelings had vanished in the night, she mused. She rolled over.

A beam of sun captured Mac's hair, making it glow like firelight. The sun's angle cast tiny shadows on her face, emphasizing her every feature. Mac was ruggedly handsome, Phryne noticed, almost for the first time. She smiled at the cliche that wasn't quite a cliche, because it wasn't normally applied to women. And yet, there was something in the absolute relaxation on her sleeping friend's face that revealed a little lovely softness that was rather pretty. Mac's pajamas were gently rumpled, and the top button of the shirt had come undone in the night.

Mac opened her eyes halfway, and Phryne quickly adjusted her gaze to about an inch above Mac's head.

"G'morning," Mac mumbled.

"Sleep well?" Phryne asked. 

"Yes, you've quite a comfortable bed, here. And these sheets are amazing."

"I do like to be comfortable." 

There was an awkward silence. Phryne remembered a minute in that it might not be awkward on Mac's end, unless she knew. It was six o'clock. Breakfast would probably be another hour. She had time to talk, if she wanted. Ordinarily, she felt very much at ease gathering information, usually without her interlocutor even knowing that's what she was doing. She smoothed her hair and moistened her lips. Normally waking up next to someone, being disheveled was a sign of success, but at this moment, she would feel more confident if she looked at least a little put together. 

“Mac?”

“Mm?”

“You prefer conversation to be straightforward, don’t you?” Phyrne wanted to be reassured, although she wasn’t quite sure which answer would reassure her.

“I suppose it depends on the company. if you mean like when you’re on a case, I know you well enough to understand when you’re talking around a subject.” Mac’s expression was earnest and calm. She had to suspect. But if she did suspect, why was she so calm about it? Wouldn’t sudden, intense attraction pose some kind of question or other? Phryne wanted to lean towards Mac, but they were both lying on their sides, so it was hard to accomplish without just sort of scootching. 

“And when it’s just the two of us?” Phryne asked. She leaned on her arm, supported by the pillow, hoping that this method of getting closer didn’t look as awkward as it felt. What was it about men that made this process so simple, Phryne wondered. Are they that easy to manipulate, or was getting the confidence to approach Mac that difficult?

“When it’s just the two of us, sure, I like to be straight,” said Mac, smoothing a bit of Phryne’s hair just like the night before. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” Phryne took in a breath from low in her belly. 

“Mac, when I asked about sex between friends… I meant the two of us.” It felt like that one sentence took all the breath out of her.

Mac paused. The corners of her mouth quirked up, and then she frowned in puzzlement. Meanwhile the sun was still lighting her hair, and her cotton pyjamas were still accenting her strong, shapely figure, and her eyes were still infuriatingly bright.

“You… does that interest you? I didn’t realize you even -- I mean, I didn’t think you were the type,” said Mac, “No offense intended.”

“None taken,” said Phryne wryly. So Mac hadn’t noticed that Phryne was practically gaping at her in the bath, or that she had been a nervous mess. Or, she hadn’t known what the mess was about. This made Phryne feel a little better.

“It does interest me,” she said, “It interests me quite a lot, although I confess I only realized it recently.” 

“I see. And am I the first woman you have realized this about?”

Phryne blushed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Mac, with a smirk.

“So… what do you think? Would it be the elephant in the room?” Phryne realized she was rolling the edge of the sheet in her fingers again. Not a particularly graceful habit.

“Well, I owe you as much directness as you gave me. I wrote the possibility off years ago.” The undone top button on Mac’s shirt was getting increasingly distracting. A bit of her lapel had fallen open and her breast just looked so touchable.

“Is it alright if I put it back on the table?” Phryne asked. 

“Yes, but I don’t know what my answer will be. You’re a dear friend, and well, you know that you’re beautiful, but I’ve spent so long not thinking of you that way.”

Phryne sighed. She could live with either answer, now that it was out there in the open and Mac didn’t appear alienated by it.

“Well, take your time. The offer stands,” said Phryne, in a voice she usually reserved for Jack and a few others.


	7. Momentum

"Good morning, miss," said Dot brightly when Phryne came downstairs. Mac was ten feet or so behind her.

"I took a look outside," Dot continued, "and I think we should expect to keep our guests through the day, perhaps overnight."

"That bad?" said Phryne, thinking with pleasure of Mac staying.

"There's a downed tree a few houses away, but the road's just mud in the other direction. And look at the sky."

"More rain to come," murmured Mac, who had stopped at the window.

"Well! I'm sure we can keep our guests entertained," said Phryne, diligently avoiding Mac's eye, "We'll just have to make the most of it."

Breakfast was largely taken up by the task of placating Aunt Prudence, who was making distressed noises about staying all day and another night, less and less politely. Phyrne suggested cards, and a singalong at the piano, and told her aunt she had plenty of books and respectable magazines in case Prudence wanted to get away from the young people.

"Oh, and we can play party games," said Camellia.

"I'm not sure -- " Aunt Prudence began to interrupt, but Camellia finished, "Like Charades."

Mac looked as good in the previous day's clothes as she had last night. She didn't treat Phryne any differently, even though Phryne was keenly aware of Mac's every word, mannerism, and gesture. Gradually, Phryne began to get used to the idea of going about her day and finding Mac maddeningly attractive at the same time. She was still distracted, especially when Mac brushed by her and Phryne was very briefly overwhelmed by her scent. But, the attraction didn't have that schoolgirl crush quality that it started out with. Phryne grew to enjoy being distracted, rather than worry about what it meant. It was like any other social occasion with any other person she strongly desired.

Following several hours of after-dinner charades and digestifs, all of the guests returned to the rooms they had been put up in the night before. Mr. Butler had tackled the stuck window in the light of day, when the air was a good bit drier, and was able to wrangle it down. He must have noticed the draft walking by the room. Phryne wished he hadn't. Phryne glanced at her empty bed. Tonight, she could pleasure herself in peace, lying on her back as nature intended. Heaven knows she could use it, after Mac being around all day. 

Was it far too early to hope that Mac could have considered her proposition, and warmed up to the idea? It would be nice to have Mac stay the night in her bed again, since she was staying the night anyway. Mac had said that she had to think because it had been years since she considered the possibility of Phryne sexually. She didn't say she had to decide whether she found Phryne attractive. Could a day have been enough time to recalibrate how she saw her? Perhaps she would just go and knock on Mac's door and sit and talk with her for a while, nothing especially forward.

Phryne's stomach did a small flip-flop as she put her hand on the cold handle of her own bedroom door. A bit of the previous night's sheepish feeling crept into her. She felt flushed. She opened the door slowly.

"Well hello there!" Mac was on the other side of the door, her hand poised to knock.   
"Fancy meeting you here," Phryne said with a smile.  
"I can come back later, if you're busy."  
"Actually, I was coming to see you," she said, opening the door wider and ushering Mac in. 

There was a pregnant pause. Mac was in the striped pyjamas again, still looking much more dapper than anyone in borrowed nightclothes had any right to be.

"Please, sit down," Phryne said, gesturing to the bed. She and Mac both took a seat on its edge. 

"I've been thinking..." Mac said and trailed off. 

"Yes?" 

"Yes," said Mac, a twinkle in her eye. Phryne leaned towards her.

Suddenly they were kissing, and it was wonderful. After a moment, Phryne noticed it was also fairly chaste. She put her arm around Mac and pulled her in a little closer. Their mouths were closed, but they were still kissing. Phryne opened her mouth and very gently darted her tongue over Mac's lips. There we go, now Mac was opening up to a fuller, deeper kiss. Phryne could barely believe it. She didn't have any sense of how long this went on; she was too busy studying every detail of Mac's face and hands and back as they pressed together. Phryne normally preferred to keep her eyes closed while enjoying a passionate kiss, but she found herself opening them again and again to enjoy the architecture of Mac's firm cheekbones and the grace of the smile lines around her eyes. Between her legs had started out damp, with that special kind of creaminess that only comes from spending many hours in a state of low-level arousal, but now she could feel herself growing wet. After she had given Mac the invitation, she was able to let her friend sort of take the lead, which was good because Phryne was in a bit of a fog. 

Now they were leaning together, and she could feel the soft curve of Mac's breasts on her own, and Mac's arm was around her so firmly that Phryne began to wonder if Mac was about to shift her weight and topple Phryne onto her back and mount her, to continue kissing from another angle if nothing else. She gasped as Mac began to kiss and nibble at her neck -- she hadn't even noticed Mac leaving her lips. Then they were kissing properly again. Mac did shift her weight, but to Phryne's surprise, she thrust her hips forward and rolled deftly so that Phryne ended up on top of Mac. Phryne paused to look at her friend quizzically, but Mac only grinned and placed a hand on the back of Phryne's neck. As she slipped her tongue back into Mac's mouth, she settled very comfortably around her, one leg cradling Mac's hip, and the other in the warm space between Mac's legs.


	8. Cotton and Silk

Phryne used her new vantage point to kiss Mac with even more determination. Their bodies fit so well together, and Mac's hair was splayed out on the pillow like scattered azaleas. After a moment, however, a thought distracted Phryne. 

“Mac?”

“Mmm?” Mac looked like she was disappointed that the kissing had paused.

“What … changed? I mean, this morning you weren't sure you wanted to do this at all. I wasn't sure you were interested.” Phryne straddled Mac so that she could sit up a little. Mac looked at her silently for a moment. 

“Phryne, no one in their right mind would be uninterested in you. When I met you, you practically knocked the wind out of me.” Mac smiled, and Phryne blushed. Oh hell, now she was self-conscious again.

“But I got to know you, and it became clear you were inclined towards the sterner sex. My attraction to you never went away, I just never thought it was relevant.”

“I never thought you the type to let a desire smolder,” murmured Phryne.

“No, it wasn't like that,” said Mac, reaching up and stroking Phryne's cheek. “I guess it did go away, but it went into the recesses of my mind, rather than leaving me entirely. I wasn't... pining. But I sure as hell notice when you are wearing a sleek new dress.”

Satisfied with Mac's answer, Phryne went for her friend's neck. She had been aching for that neck, with its very fine wrinkles and its incredibly soft skin, since seeing Mac in the bath. She had never really noticed Mac's neck before but now it felt like quenching a longstanding thirst to cover that neck with kisses.

“Move your leg back between mine, please,” said Mac, who was arching her back in response to the kisses.

“May I ask why?” Phryne said, but she complied. To her surprise, Mac burst out laughing.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Mac said once she recovered. She began to slowly rock her hips back and forth, and in a moment, Phryne understood why the position of their legs was important. 

She must have run her hands over Mac's pyjamas fifty times at this point. She poised her fingers on the shirt's top button and pulled away from kissing long enough to look at her friend pointedly, asking without words. Mac nodded. Phryne made quick work of the buttons and then Mac's beautiful breasts were exposed. She still smelled a little bit like lavender and rosemary. Phryne had butterflies in her stomach but she approached Mac's nipple tenderly, slowly circling it with her tongue.

“You're a natural,” Mac teased.

Soon, or maybe not soon, it was hard to tell, Mac's strong, graceful hand began working its way up Phryne's thigh, beneath her silk nightgown. Her skin was tingling from all the attention, and her nipples were so sensitive she could feel every movement of the air. She rolled off to the side to allow Mac better access. Mac stroked her with one finger, very gently. It was infuriating how gentle it was. Phryne opened her mouth to demand more, faster, harder, then paused.

“Mac, wait. I... erm... I have a bit of a habit of dozing off for a few minutes... sometimes longer... shortly after I come. It's never proved to be a problem with the gentlemen, because they finish up as soon as I let them, but...”

Mac arched an eyebrow.

“Are you saying you'd like to pleasure me first?”

“If you don't mind,” Phryne said. She was a little nervous, but she covered for it this time, biting her lower lip and smiling.

“Not a bit.” Mac freed herself from the remaining pyjama leg that was somehow still around one ankle. Phryne draped one arm over Mac's chest, and with her right hand, began trailing between Mac's thighs just had her friend had done between hers. Phryne crept her fingers closer to Mac's vulva timidly. She thrilled at the prospect of exploring there, but she was having her first bit of performance anxiety in a very long time. Well, it couldn't be much different from masturbating on her own, could it?


	9. More Adventures

It was different. Mac was delightfully wet and warm, and her engorged clitoris was easy to find within the folds, but Phryne had never realized just how much of her own skill at pleasuring herself had to do with the instant feedback. She was completely out of her depth. She focused on getting to know Mac's body for a few minutes, slowly trailing her fingers up and down and around. She slid one finger, then two, inside of her. Ooh, that was a sensation. Mac continued to be impressively strong. Phryne drifted up to Mac's clitoris again.

“Mmmmmm!” she had never heard such a moan come from Mac before, but she was terribly excited to hear it now. So that was the form of feedback she'd be getting. Of course. 

“You like that?” Phryne said, grinning.

“Uh,” Mac grunted softly.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Phryne didn't know how long she spent rubbing Mac's gorgeous cunt, but at some point, she became aware of wanting to do a little bit more. She wasn't nervous anymore, just filled with a kind of electric energy from all of the excitement. She kissed Mac's belly – taut set of abdominal muscles, she noticed – and moved her kisses downwards, until she was at the edge of Mac's thick, chestnut-colored hair. 

“May I?” she asked.

“I thought you'd never ask!” Mac said with a laugh.

Phryne continued downwards and began exploring with her tongue. Oh, this was new. She had expected Mac's juice to taste how it smelled, rich and musky, and they did, but there was also a tart note, almost acidic. One could become a connoisseur of all this complexity, she thought to herself. Then, she didn't have time to think, because Mac was bucking her hips – only half-consciously, Phryne realized – and she had to focus in order to keep her tongue where it was most effective. Her jaw began to tire as she alternated between soft laps and more assertive darting motions. Mac gave her advice from time to time. Phryne was continuing to grow more aroused herself, as her friend's taste became earthier.

“Oh god!” Mac grasped the bedsheets near Phryne's head. This was it, Mac was coming to orgasm. The bed shook with Mac's body as she trembled and moaned. When she was done, she put a hand on Phryne's head.

“Thank you.”

“Believe me,” said Phryne, looking up into Mac's eyes, “The pleasure was all mine.”

When Mac coaxed Phryne onto her back, spreading her thighs and getting into position to return the favor, Phryne drifted off into a trance of pleasure. She could feel beads of sweat forming on her back and soaking into the sheets. She had a lot of great lovers, but she couldn't recall anyone else employing their mouth quite so expertly. Phryne wished it could last all night. She briefly tried to think of other things, to force herself to take longer. She thought of lavender in the garden. Mac in the bath. The taste of a good glass of wine. Mac's smile right before they kissed for the first time. The feel of the cold porcelain toilet the night before. Mac sleeping next to her. Phryne orgasmed all too quickly, but at least it was long and intense.

 

Phryne opened her eyes sleepily. She hadn't even been aware of drifting off in the minutes after she came.

“Hello.” Mac was sitting up beside her, leaning against some propped pillows, a cigarette in one hand.

“Was I out for long?” Phryne asked.

“Not very, but I did start my second cigarette.” Mac took a long drag and exhaled lazily. The rain was beating on the windows noisily.

“So, what happens now? I mean... after this. Was this a one-time thing?” Phryne asked.

“God, I hope not.”

“Good, I'd like to do this again. But, um, will it be the elephant in the room? And, um, how will we...” 

Mac stroked Phryne's hair. “My dear, I think we'll both know when the mood strikes us.”


End file.
